Personal Hell
by McGonagall's Bola
Summary: John Curtis wanted to really punish Jo for stopping him, for not letting him live his disgusting fantasies much longer - "Means To An And" seriously re-interpreted, framed within Jo/Mac.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story will include references to torture and rape. If you're not comfortable with that, this might not be your kind of story to read. I've studied crime for so many years now and have always had an issue with Means To An End (season 8, episode 9) that way. John Curtis was portrayed as the sort of felon who typically feeds on 'obsessions' (sexual intercourse, bondage), also believing himself absolutely invincible, that feeling only intensified by earlier successes not to get caught. Often enough, felons like those are intelligent, which is exactly why so many victims are made before police manage to identify them. As such, I don't believe that Curtis wouldn't be any more enraged, wouldn't vow to really punish Jo for being the direct cause for him ending in jail to begin with –– degrading her, like his prior victims. I don't believe he wouldn't know about the bullet in the gun's chamber either. This interpretation is mostly criminological/psychological. I did frame this in JAC-ness to soothe my soul.

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BETA READ by _UrbanMuse_

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**Prologue**

Jo's laugh resounded throughout the hallway as Mac caught up with her at last, wrapping his arms around her waist and stopping her from running further away from him as he pulled her against his body. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck once, twice, running his nose along the side of her neck as she cocked her head slightly to offer him better access. Jo reached back and scrabbled at his sides as his hands began to roam higher and cup her breasts, as if testing their weight. She hissed as he squeezed gently, her breasts seeming to fit perfectly in the palms of his calloused yet gentle hands. What this man could do to her with his hands and mouth alone was unbelievable, and should be illegal, because whenever he touched her with such desire, she felt suddenly weak, wanton and uninhibited.

"You're so beautiful," Mac whispered in her ear as he ran a thumb across her nipple, feeling it strain against his digit, hardened with Jo's desire and want for him… again. He could feel his own want, his own arousal, pressing against her buttocks. It would be so easy to just bend her over the table in the hallway and slip inside her, before taking his own pleasure and giving her hers while at it.

Mac Taylor did possess a lot of restraint, but this gorgeous woman had a way of breaking even his very easily and very effectively, without much effort at all. He should have predicted that exactly this was going to happen when she stepped into the shower shortly after him, delaying his morning ritual and effectively making sure that he wouldn't get to work early as he had hoped. He should have known that she would not let him get away before she had gotten what she wanted from him that morning. He should have known that any efforts from his side to reason with her, to cease her trying to seduce him into morning sex until a more suitable moment, would be futile in the end.

Jo Danville was a very independent woman who, despite being loving and caring deeply about the people around her, with no qualms about showing it, could rarely be considered as acting very clingy. Mac thought he could compare her to a cat sometimes, an animal known for being independent yet cuddly on its own terms with the people it selected itself… and just like a cat, she had put her claws in him. He was her toy mouse, and she would not let him zoom off before she was satisfied. He couldn't say that he particularly minded that, even if it meant that he would not arrive early at work but maybe only just in time. There was no point trying to stop her at this point anyway, and he knew he wouldn't regret it. It was sometimes terrifying what power she had over him, his self-restraint and conduct.

He released his hold on her just enough for her to turn to face him in the embrace as he felt her body strain to do so, ignoring the water drops dripping on his chest from the tips of her raven hair. They had not really done any effort at all to dry themselves or each other properly. Mac briefly wondered if he hadn't passed the age to literally be running after female of any age at all, but Jo's playfulness and banter was so easy to succumb to and join in with. He loved how she shrieked and giggled like a little girl when he chased after her and caught her. He didn't recall any other time in his life in the last decade where he had felt this young. Claire had made him feel young, but he had been younger, too.

Unfortunately, the banter wouldn't last very long.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

Jo sighed, rather loudly. She shifted her weight onto her other leg and slid her hand to her lower back, pressing it quite firmly, cradling it. As a woman, she was of course not unfamiliar with back pain, especially about the small of her back, but as she waited in line for her much-needed cup of strong coffee at the small coffee shop around the corner from the crime lab that Tuesday morning in June, she frowned to herself as she considered all possible options why it might be giving her grief now. She hadn't done anything that had caused a particular strain on her lower back, nor was she nearing that time of the month. It must have been just an unfortunate turn that she had made, not even aware of it at the time maybe. At the moment she didn't see any other possible reason for it to hurt like it did.

She ordered her cup of steaming black coffee, accompanied by a smile that was far from the usual that could light up the entire room and tease everyone into a great mood like hers –– because to the eye of the unknown beholder, Josephine Danville always seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood. As she waited with patience, she considered the last few days, if not weeks, at the crime lab. She knew that lately she had felt more drained, both physically and emotionally, and maybe this could all just be attributed to the stress of her job, especially the Curtis case and her emotional involvement in it. As much as she hated to admit it, she was also getting older. She realized this most particularly when she looked at her children, all grown-up and making their own decisions. Ellie hadn't even asked for allowance before going on a sleepover the weekend prior. Maybe the stress at her job and her age combined with the fact that she was keeping up with the sex-life of someone half her age could have caused those feelings and her back pain as well. Also, it had been just an hour or two before that Mac and she had been intimate against the doorframe between her hallway and kitchen. She smiled softly at the memory, realizing that maybe that was the most direct reason for her current back pain…

As she sipped from her coffee, a frown creased between Jo's eyebrows. She would have thought that her daily cup would help her, but it just didn't seem to have any taste this morning. If anything, she thought it tasted a bit weird and smelled a bit different than it usually did. Maybe these were new coffee beans from another supplier or such? She considered the possibility. After all, it had happened that her old coffee shop in Virginia had had to take on a new supplier after their previous one had gone bankrupt, and their coffee had never tasted the same anymore. It had never tasted as unlike coffee as this, though. She tried not to pay too much attention to the weird taste in her mouth as she downed the rest of her tall cup on the way to the crime lab. Either way, she needed the caffeine.

By the time she got there, cup finished, she had this weird taste still lingering in her mouth and just knew it would remain for most of the day. The walk in the cool breeze and the caffeine-filled drink had not helped her feel any less drained either, and now, on top of everything, she seemed to feel nauseous, too. Throwing the unnecessary paper cup in the waste bin in the main hallway and pressing her other hand against her stomach, Jo Danville made her way to the ladies' room, the sound of her high heeled boots resounding against the shiny tiles as she hurried there. It wouldn't be the first time she had gotten sick the last few days, and maybe it wasn't so surprising with John Curtis right there in New York, on the loose and leaving more victims in his wake wherever he seemed to go… Yet they weren't any closer to catching the son-of-a-bitch and letting him suffer for his mistakes in jail.

The case had been eating away at her beneath the wide smile for years, but it had definitely intensified ever since he had shown up here in New York City. She couldn't possibly put into words the feeling of relief that would wash through her when she finally saw him locked behind bars with the knowledge he would stay there for the foreseeable future. She shook her head. Dear Lord. Usually, she was more stress resistant than she had been this past week.

She spit the water with which she had rinsed her mouth into the sink, immediately splashing cold water from the tap onto her face in hopes of feeling a bit fresher and better than she had to admit she really did. Mac had noticed that she was looking much more peaked than she usually did, too, and had wondered if maybe she was not coming down with a stomach bug or such. She had dismissed it, but maybe he was right in his concern after all. Then again, wouldn't she have been ill more often and throughout the day instead of mostly in the mornings?

Slowly raising her head and looking at her reflection in the rectangular mirror, a thought struck her. What if it wasn't stress or a stomach bug at all? Closing her eyes and lowering her head again, she leaned onto the sink and tried to think of any time where she and Mac had been together without using protection. She could only think of one time, and that had been a bit after her last period, now about five weeks ago. She raised her hand to her mouth as her breath caught in her throat, the realization hitting her that it could very well be that right at that moment, she was in fact carrying Mac Taylor's child. She took a deep, calming breath, but it didn't have the desired effect. Suddenly, her heart was racing and the pounding was only increasing in strength and pace. She tried to get her mind together and came to the conclusion that first off, before she began panicking and lost her mind entirely, she needed to make sure whether her current thought was even valid. Mac and she had only arrived a little before eight given their activities earlier that morning, right after –– or technically, during and after –– their shower, and then she had walked to the coffee shop and back as well. It was maybe a bit soon for her to take leave of the lab yet again, but there was no chance that she would manage to think clearly with the possibility of her being pregnant on her mind. She didn't think she had ever been that glad to be the Assistant Supervisor of the lab and have such freedom to manage her time as she saw fit. She had rarely made use of it before, but now, she would have to draw on that and take the twenty minutes to the drugstore and back for a pregnancy test.

If she had thought that her mind would be cleared after taking the pregnancy test, she was incredibly mistaken. As she sat on the toilet, lid down, leaning back against the wall of the stall, she tried to reason with the positive result shown on the display. She wasn't sure how to feel about that little smiley face. Too many thoughts were racing through her head; in fact they had been even before this.

She knew pregnancy tests missed on occasion, but very rarely did they give a false positive. She sighed. The timing was all but great in many ways. Her son was old enough to have children of his own, dear heavens. What would Mac think, no less? Did he even want children? Did she want more to begin with? The first chance she would get to tell him would be that night, she knew. It would be really hard to do, but until then she would just have to try and be the professional detective she knew she could and had to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Please, don't forget about my warning...

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**Chapter 2**

Jo Danville was aching all over. However, aching didn't cover the half of it. She could raise her head only barely, nausea overtaking her each time she tried. She hurt, like needles pricked into every inch of her skin. _Please, forget the one bullet_… she begged to herself. She had lost count of how many times over the years she had had to classify a case as an accidental death, victim having shot him or herself after forgetting about the bullet remaining lodged in the gun's chamber. She hoped John Curtis wasn't thoughtful enough to remember it either. Jo's mind was racing as she thought of the possibilities on how to reach her gun and be back in control of the situation she was in at that point. She had made a capital mistake, not checking if everything was clear at once, and now she would pay dearly for it, she just knew. The feeling only intensified immensely as the rapist's eyes met with hers, and she watched the sickening smile grow on John's face. He wouldn't kill her quite yet, she knew. She knew he wouldn't shoot her when he pointed her gun at her and teased the trigger with his finger tip. Still, she felt her heart race even faster. He knew about the bullet in the gun's chamber. In just a second, he pointed the gun a couple of inches higher and fired the last bullet into the floor right above her shoulder. Jo's hope disappeared. She couldn't fight him like this, and now her gun was no longer an option either.

"You came too close, Jo, and you'll suffer for it just like the others, but I'll make sure to treat you very special just like you've always seemed to carry a special vengeance against me, too."

She knew what he had in mind right then, and a feeling of dread settled uncomfortably in Jo's stomach. She knew he was the type of criminal who was smarter than most people and enjoyed using every bit of his knowledge to torture others and force them into his own sick game, for only his delight. She hurt so much. She groaned when she felt John grab her forearm roughly and begin to drag her further into Amanda's bedroom. She offered very little resistance indeed. She couldn't fight him, no matter how much she wanted to do so. She didn't exactly have the strength after her collision with the mirror goodness knew how much earlier.

If only she had let Flack come with, as he had suggested… However, she had thought it wouldn't be necessary, that it wouldn't take long. She hadn't thought of possible danger, of John Curtis intercepting them. She felt like she had failed. She was supposed to consider all possibilities of danger as a first degree police detective. So now he would have his merry way with her for having come too close, and he would make sure she suffered a fate worse than any of the girls she had sought a way to justice for. Her arm hurt so badly. If she could just reach her radio, find the red button to alert the others that she needed help…

She felt her thumb graze something and pressed as hard as possible, but then she felt how the device was ripped from underneath her, just before she felt her body being lifted as he threw her onto the bed.

"Mayday?" John sniggered. "No, no. Jo, I haven't even gotten started on you, and we don't need anyone to interrupt us, at least up until I've had my time to toy with you."

She heard the sound of the gun being laid down on the night table. She slowly tried to turn her head but as she did she felt a fist collide with her cheekbone so hard she thought it might even be broken or at least fractured. Tears filled Jo's eyes as she felt her hands being tied behind her, Curtis seeming to not want to give up on the MO he had used with every other woman he had ever victimized. She knew she would be beaten and raped like them, too, and all that then ran through her head was that she very much hoped it wouldn't kill her child, Mac's child, that was slowly developing, inside her. He would be all but gentle, she knew. It wasn't in his nature to be gentle at this point.

As he neared her, she tried to kick him where it would hurt the most, but Curtis was faster and had seemingly… anticipated Jo's reaction. She wasn't the kind of person who would ever go down without fighting, no matter what battle she had to fight, even though the opponent was a whole lot stronger. He shoved her down on the bed hard when Jo tried to kick once more, his knee landing forcefully in her lower abdomen. Tears filled Jo's eyes as the air left her lungs from the force behind it. Even if she lived through this ordeal, she expected her child would not, regardless of whether Curtis even knew of its existence or not. That was the last she wanted: for him to know. She knew he would only make it worse, even if in that moment it took all that she had not to plead for her child's life, to give him what he undoubtedly wanted… which was for Jo Danville to break down entirely.

She closed her teary, hazel eyes tight when she felt him begin to undress her. She felt her insides lurch as she felt Curtis' hands on her bare skin where she had only ever allowed a lover to touch her. She turned her head aside to spit blood from her mouth, followed by the bile that had risen in her throat. "Stop…" she whimpered, feeling him getting too close.

"Oh no, Jo, the fun's only just getting started…" he replied, laughing as he reveled in the gasp of pain she gave when she felt the cold metal of her own gun _there_.

Jo Danville didn't know how long she had endured the pain before she began to beg quietly for him to just kill her, to just let it be over. She didn't remember ever in her life having hurt like that –– not even in childbirth with Tyler. She felt her own blood on her thighs, felt the cold metal scraping inside. The rest of her body just felt numb, as if she was somehow detached from it. Jo Danville was bordering on the edge of consciousness, her surroundings bathed first in color then darkness… She was only barely aware of the slight disturbance in the hallway right before she heard the door being kicked from its hinges, followed by an accurate shot, her attacker slowly falling to the side with his eyes wide-open as if he were surprised this was the end. Mac had come to save her, at last.

Mac's face was the first she saw when she tried to focus on what was going on, which seemed hard to do. Even if the pain between her legs was worse than anywhere, it now began spreading throughout her body. Through a gaze of tears, she saw Mac hold up his hand to keep everyone at a safe distance from her, before he holstered his gun and shrugged off his jacket to cover her battered body with it. Mac's face looked grave. "We received your mayday…" he whispered, leaning over Jo's body to unbind her wrists, carefully rolling her to the side to do so. When she winced audibly, he apologized in a whisper. As she felt her wrists being at last released, smelling Mac's strong cologne in her nostrils, she couldn't help but just burst into tears as she was forced to accept that, even though she truly hadn't dared to hope any longer, he had, indeed, come to rescue her. She was saved at last, although she doubted he had come in time for their child to be saved, too.

She fell against him, crying harder than before as the thought hit her hard. She tugged at Mac's clothes weakly. "Our baby…" she stuttered. She felt the need to tell him, to share her pain with someone then, with him. Part of her admission was her apology, too. If she hadn't gone, had accepted Flack's offer…

He didn't ask questions, even if she doubted he truly understood. He just held her, refused to stray from her side for even a second, even at the hospital when they examined her and then rushed her to the OR, until Mac was forced to halt there at the doors. He was there when Jo awoke, when they informed her she would be fine, physically, despite the internal hemorrhage she had suffered. He was with her when she was told that she had been with child for four weeks but that it hadn't survived, hadn't lived. Even then, Mac Taylor was there, right where she needed him to be.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

Jo sighed, laying her head on Mac's shoulder, her arms encircling his waist as she pulled herself closer to him again. She looked pale and ill, for the fourth day in a row having just vomited the contents from her stomach before even thinking about her first meal of the day. Nevertheless, a smile was upon her lips as she inhaled the scent of her fiancé, feeling his one arm curled defensively about her, the fingertips of his other hand gently stroking along the skin of her upper arm, feather light.

"Are you all right?" he wondered.

"Mhmm," she whispered in response just like she had every morning before. After the daily bout of nausea and vomiting, Jo Danville could usually get on with her day as well as she always had without anything more. Mac had made sure that she was not scheduled for any night shifts anymore and that she was not sent on any urgent intervention if he could keep it from happening, by either going himself or making sure that it was covered by someone else.

The sound of a chuckle filled the bedroom that had been silent to this point except for their gentle breathing. The chuckle ended with a soft smile as Mac's forefinger traced the diamond imbedded in the thin silver engagement ring on her finger. He sometimes still couldn't believe it when he thought about it all. Shortly after he met Claire, he had known she was the woman he wanted to marry and the one he wanted to have children with one day. When he lost her that awful morning in 2001, he never considered moving on even. He searched for her, thought he saw her so often, only to be disappointed time and again. He carried on in this way for so long, and then Jo had entered his life. He often thought about how she had changed him, but he had never managed to put it into words, even in his mind. He thought he could best sum it up by saying that every woman he had ever met since Claire's passing had just tried to get him to open up and move forward. This to the point that he had finally let himself believe that was what he wanted and needed as well, but from the moment he met Jo Danville, he knew that it hadn't been the case. He came to realize that she more than anyone, knew what he had and still needed. She hadn't tried to tear his walls down; her laughter and joy had just made him unlock the door. She hadn't tried to push him forward; she had merely extended her hand for him to take if he wanted… and he had. And ever since, they had walked hand in hand, side by side. "I never thought I'd end up getting remarried and becoming a father at this age anymore. If you had told me that three years ago, I'd have thought you were insane."

Jo Danville's smile grew wider. She had not planned on having another child either, definitely not at her age. Truth was that deep down she had always wanted a big family, ever since she had been a little girl. However, shortly after Tyler's birth, the fights with Russ had increased, and his demands for her to stay at home instead of working had come more often based on his firm belief that it was not possible to have a family and career at the same time. A second child had never been a part of the plan anymore, for she knew Russ would only consider another child as another reason for her not to work, to become a stay-at-home mom. It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to experience being pregnant again; it was Russ pressuring her to make that choice between family and career. Then Ellie had come into her life, and it had been perfect. Sure, her love life had been a mess, to put it candidly–– no man had actually stayed. She had had her flirts since Russ, but it had been nothing but that, really. The thought of another child had been buried, and that had been fine. Until now.

Having Mac's child was something she hadn't expected or planned, and neither had Mac, but its loss had done something to her for sure. She would never have really, deliberately tried to have a child with him before that had happened, for so many reasons, even if she had always thought that Mac would make a great father. Tyler was in college and Ellie had grown up to be a beautiful young woman in her mid-teens, and she herself wasn't exactly getting younger either. She felt she had passed the age of having babies. Then she had taken that positive test, and then she had lost the child before she had even had the chance to share the news with Mac.

He had been surprised to say the least when he learned that Jo had been with child. She certainly couldn't blame him. After all, they had always been very careful except for that just one time. He had witnessed his partner's devastation when the nurse had confirmed the news only to immediately say that she was sorry to inform her the baby had not survived the attack. She had known that if ever she would have wanted to have another child of her own again, it would have been with Mac and no one else whatever happened, and he had recognized that. When her tears had stopped flowing, her crying no more than a series of hiccupping sobs, his arms holding her body, he had gently asked her what she thought she would have done. The question had been immediately clear to her, and she had had to admit that she had felt very doubtful when she learned of her pregnancy, but that, had he really wanted this baby as well, she would have kept it. A silence had followed, which had been broken many minutes later by Jo's whispered question whether he would have wanted to have the baby. His honest answer had been that he had never really considered it, but that he couldn't have lived with the thought of not nurturing the tiny life they had created between the two of them, no matter how unexpected.

From there, the promise of the child that was now growing inside Jo's belly had most likely originated. The couple had moved slowly, letting Jo slowly grow reacquainted with being touched by more than a gentle hug or innocent kiss, developing finally to tender lovemaking when she had felt she was ready. That point had been followed by a long and extensive conversation in which Jo admitted that she often wondered what might have happened if the baby had survived, what it would have looked like and which of them it would have resembled most. Mac had had to admit that he had thought about that quite often as well, and from there, they had decided to let nature take its course and see what happened. Two months after that barely voiced decision, she had found herself with child again, somewhat unexpected as well. She honestly hadn't thought that she would get pregnant again at her age and certainly not that soon, but it had indeed happened, and she had been so glad, as had Mac, and so here they were now.

With those thoughts in mind, Jo replied, "Yeah. I really hadn't expected for this to happen either, but I'm unfathomably happy about the way things are right now."

"So am I," Mac whispered, sliding his finger tips over her growing belly.

She could see and feel so much love and tenderness in his touch, and in that moment, there was nowhere else she wanted to be more. There was nothing that could possibly make the moment better for her. And it was just then that she stilled, sliding her hand from his waist to her belly, taking his hand and sliding it a little lower, before looking at him, into his gray eyes with her own intense hazel ones.

"What's the matter?"

"I believe I felt our baby move, right there," she whispered, and as she said it, her smile grew wider, because she knew it had been exactly that. Right then, in that moment, the existence of that small creation of their own suddenly became so much more real, despite the fact that she had been feeling the changes in her body all along.

Jo Danville smiled contentedly, leaning slightly further into Mac's strong embrace, both their hands resting gently over her belly, anticipating the next fluttering movement coming from the tiny being within. Their child. Jo marveled at how even when life takes a turn for the worse, when the hurdles it challenges you with may seem insurmountable at the time, with patience and perserverence and the right person at your side, you would be surprised at how strong you actually are. If not you yourself, then certainly together.


End file.
